Outside Apt 1008
by carroussella
Summary: I hate that he all but dragged the reluctant words out of me and forced me to face up to what I've already been dreading to face. Spoilers for 3x13 "Fault Lines" & 4x01 "Personal Effects"


**Fandom:** Flashpoint**  
>Pairing:<strong> Sam/Jules  
><strong>Category:<strong> Romance  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><em><strong>ONE-SHOT<strong>_

**Disclaimer:** As much as I'd love to, I don't own Flashpoint, and all characters remain property of the show's wonderful scriptwriters. All original characters and plots are mine. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Synopsis: **I hate that he all but dragged the reluctant words out of me and forced me to face up to what I've already been dreading to face. Spoilers for 3x13 "Fault Lines" & 4x01 "Personal Effects"

**Author's Note:** Semi-fluffy piece, because despite what SYuuri believes, I'm still not ready for full-blown fluff. I tried keeping things PG-13, but FFnet rules state I must rate it as T… so if you're underage, come back when you're older, okay?

* * *

><p>I hate Dr. Toth. I really do.<p>

It's not because he's intent on breaking up my team – the only team that has ever felt like a family to me. It's not because he seems to be so determined to squash the one good thing in my life and that his questions are breaking at the thin fabric that's holding us together.

But if I'm honest to myself, it's because he – and his damned questions – have driven me here. Outside Apartment 1008.

I used to think that working together is not the same as sleeping together, and for the better part of the last year, I managed to prove that. I put aside my feelings, my emotions, and I got the job done.

I buried my feelings for Sam Braddock.

But in just one session, Toth tore down all my defenses. All the walls I erected to keep Sam out of my heart – and out of my personal life – came crumbling down. And I hate him for it.

I hate that I'm forced to admit that Sam has never really left my heart. He's still very much a permanent resident there. I hate that I confessed that I wish things were different between me and Sam. Granted, it was a nonverbal confession, but everyone knows what you _don't_ say during a psych evaluation is just as important, if not more important, as what you do say.

I hate that Toth all but dragged the reluctant words out of me and forced me to face up to what I've already been dreading to face: Sam Braddock is not, will not, and cannot, go away. Not from me, at least.

I won't let him. And more importantly, _I don't want him to_.

I've been standing here for the past fifteen minutes, pacing up and down in front of the door. Should I knock? Should I not?

If I knock, and that door opens, it won't just be a relationship that will be re-opening. It will be a whole can of worms. Do I want that?

I stare at the numbers, so big and bold and shiny, and it hits me like a sudden tidal wave.

Yes.

Oh God, _yes_.

I don't care how many worms we'll have to wade through, but I want this. I want Sam. All this time I've been denying myself but if there's one thing Toth is good for, it's for making me see the truth.

I can't stay away from the man I love any more than I can stay away from myself. Sam wasn't just my lover; he was confidante, best friend and an integral part of my life. The other half to my whole, I suppose the trashy romance novels would say.

He's the only man I would ever break the Priority of Life code for, without thinking, without so much as a second's hesitation, consequences be damned.

I will give up my life for this man.

Taking a deep breath to steel my already frazzled nerves, I hold my hand up, knuckles against the smooth surface. _Just do it_, I whisper to myself, and before I can chicken out, my hand is moving of its own will, and from beyond the door, I hear Sam's reply. "Coming!"

The surprise on his face is mirrored on mine – suddenly I'm unsure of this, of us. What if he's moved on?

But he moves back, allowing me entrance, and my heart gives a traitorous leap of joy. I take it as a sign – a positive one – that we're on the same page. He knows why I'm here; he knows what I want. And he wants it too.

"You're right," he says, and again my heart jumps.

But I try to play it cool. I am Julianna Callaghan, the woman who never lets any man get the better of her, and I'm not about to start now. "About what?" I ask, in a lame attempt at acting nonchalant.

It's just an act, a bluff, and Sam knows it. The fact that I'm here, inside his apartment, making the first move, is evidence enough that I'm not as tough as I want look. Sam knows that. Too well, in fact.

"It's not gonna go away," he replies, closing the distance between us.

I feel my pulse accelerating; his nearness is wreaking havoc on me. Each step he takes is slow, deliberate, and if I didn't know better, I would say that he was trying to seduce me. But I do know better – he's moving slowly because he's giving me time to step away, to push him away, to deny him one more time.

But this time, I don't want to. I'm tired of running away. Tired of running from my feelings, from him. It's not going to go away; what's between us will never go away, no matter how much we try to push it away and deny its existence.

"So…" He knows my answer now, and this is the last chance he's giving me. If I don't take it, we both know where we'll end up.

"So…" I echo him, giving him the same opportunity. My voice is a whisper, but the sound carries loudly across the empty apartment. I want this, but I also want him to want this as much as I do. If he's changed and he wants to walk away now, I want to give him that chance. He deserves at least that much from me.

But he's still moving towards me, and it becomes crystal clear in that moment where this is leading. I take a step forward, determined to meet him halfway. This is as much his choice as it is mine. And we're making it together, consciously, aware of what may happen but not caring anymore.

And in one breathless moment, our lips meet.

It's a tentative meeting of skin against skin, each unsure of the other. It's eerily reminiscent of our first kiss. It's a soft kiss, a hesitant kiss, but there is so much emotion in that simple touch.

It's gentle, and sweet, and all my longing for this man rushes to the surface at his touch. It's been too long since we were apart, and now I'm starved for him.

He draws me closer to him, the kiss becoming more heated as his tongue seeks entrance and finds it. I wrap my hands around his head, pulling him closer, if that's even possible. I want no space between us.

He's moving us, and I find myself stumbling backwards as Sam applies more pressure and our kiss deepens. I feel his desperation, his hunger, and I rejoice in the knowledge that he has missed me as much as I've missed him.

That my declaration today hasn't left me vulnerable, but has instead left me stronger.

He suddenly lifts me, and I'm vaguely aware that I've landed on a countertop, my legs open and my skirt hiked up. Sam's hands are running up and down my thigh, the confident gesture of a man who knows my body well.

I wrap my arms around him, reveling in the muscles that are straining under my hands. I need this, him in my arms again, and until Toth, I never thought that it would ever happen again.

He's reciprocating, pulling me into his arms and there's an ardor that stuns even me. I don't stop to think about it – I can't stop, even if I wanted to – but it feels like Sam can hardly believe I'm back in his arms again and that I want to be.

His lips are on my neck, and I smile to myself. He obviously still remembers how sensitive my throat is and how much it turns me on. He's nibbling on the skin, and I repress the urge to shudder.

Our mouths meet again, and I eagerly run my hands up and down his arms. This time I really do shake with desire as he trails his hands along my thighs, his nails raking the sensitive skin lightly. He's teasing me; damn the man, but I love it.

I'm just about to whisper some naughty encouragement to him when I hear a click.

"Oh!"

It drags me out of my stupor, and for a moment I'm dazed, still drunk on the nectar that is Sam Braddock.

"Wow."

The haze clears, and my mind returns to full function as I turn to see a girl standing in the doorway, her mouth opened in shock.

Sam has drawn back, away from me, and I push him away, unable to resist the urge to run my hands down his chest again. I feel him shudder beneath my touch; he's trying to control himself.

He stares at the newcomer, a hint of guilt and surprise on his face. I look from one to another and a sense of shame suddenly overcomes me.

I feel tears pricking the back of my eyes as I straighten my cardigan and my skirt, and the truth begins to dawn on me.

I hadn't considered – hadn't _imagined_ – that Sam would be seeing someone. When he responded to my advances, I'd stupidly thought that he was single, still mine for the taking.

Now, I look like the whore who offered herself up as a delectable treat to a man who just wanted a quick fix. I'm more embarrassed than anything, and a dull ache settles in the pit of my stomach.

"I've gotta go," I hastily mumble as I push myself off the countertop and make for the open door.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. This isn't how _we_ are supposed to be. But I guess, reality never does quite measure up to our dreams and I'll have to accept the facts as they are. There's no other way about it.

I hear Sam calling out my name as I hurry down the stairs, and I don't look back. I don't stop. I can't stop.

There's only one thought which crosses my mind as I jump into my car.

I should've stayed outside Apartment 1008.


End file.
